


a fading miracle

by getlostinsauce



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: :(, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I MEAN TECHNICALLY, Post-Dangan Ronpa 3: Hope Arc, Post-Killing School Life (Dangan Ronpa), References to Depression, i just threw this together bc i feel like shit, makoto really needs a hug, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:01:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26041603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/getlostinsauce/pseuds/getlostinsauce
Summary: makoto struggles with a depressive episode
Relationships: implied Naegi Makoto/Togami Byakuya
Comments: 1
Kudos: 77





	a fading miracle

**Author's Note:**

> [title; a fading miracle from ff13-2]  
> [taken off anon 9/8/2020]
> 
> this fic is literally just me projecting onto makoto im so sorry i love him too
> 
> im passable enough now though so that's cool and epic

Lying awake in his bed at 12:46 AM, Makoto Naegi felt like he was drowning. 

His chest was tight, but he could breathe fine. He craved warmth, but he was under a thick blanket. Every feeling felt contradictory but they also felt perfectly normal. 

He would call someone, but Byakuya was probably still working and Kyoko would be asleep by now. It was fine, he hadn’t been able to move more than a few inches for two hours by now. Under any other circumstance, he would be worried about the state he was in and start attending therapy again. 

Now wasn’t normal circumstances, though. 

Sure, Makoto _did_ tend to space out and get wrapped up in his thoughts, but never like _this_. He tried reading to distract himself, but that had only made his thoughts louder. It was like covering your ears during a concert, the noise was still there. 

He wanted comfort, and that comfort was only a single phone call away. But what if he never picked up? What if the call didn’t go through in the first place? What if, what if, what if, _what if, what if_ -

What if no one was there at all?

Thoughts continued to plague his mind as he buried himself deeper into his blanket. After over an hour of his mind torturing him with awful thoughts and ideas, he did come to a reasonable conclusion. He wasn’t even over the first killing game when the second had started, but he still lied his way out of therapy. Maybe it wasn’t all a lie, maybe he had been getting better but all that progress may have been lit on fire by now. 

He only felt the need to lie because he felt bad about so much money being spent on him. That concern held no weight, and Makoto _knew_ that. He was closer with one of the richest (if not _the_ richest) people in all of Japan than he had been with anyone else. 

All of this thinking, and he still couldn’t get out of bed. 

It took several minutes of him berating himself to even sit up properly, but at least he did that. But no one was here to care. 

Once he’s successfully forced himself out of bed, an empty cold had seeped its way under his skin. That alone was unusual since this room was the warmest in the house, but he was too tired to care. If just turning over in bed made him tired, clunkily putting a sweater on drained the life out of him. 

He just needed to make it to the kitchen, then it would be smooth sailing from there. Is what the optimist in him cried out. 

Realistically, it would be fine, but Makoto wasn’t feeling every realistic right now. He hobbled his way into the bathroom just to get a sense of how dishevelled he looked. His usually (kind of) contained brown hair was sticking out more than normal and could probably use a combing. He could barely keep his eyes open fully, so there was no point in looking over the rest of himself. 

He didn’t even feel hungry anymore, but the remaining rationale in him said that not eating anything since 10 that morning probably wasn’t doing wonders for his health. 

With no one home to see, he dragged himself down the hallway with a hand on the wall to keep himself steady. The walk wasn’t far, but he felt like he’d just walked a pathetically slow mile. He gave himself a few seconds to adjust to his surroundings and the change in lighting. There he was, standing like an idiot in the middle of the kitchen at 1 AM. 

Before even realising what he was doing, he’d sloppily thrown a half-assed folded peanut butter sandwich together. It was edible, it probably wouldn’t kill him. Sufficient. Everything else he did from then on was a complete blur until he realised he was laying on the couch. 

_Warm_. 

Makoto pushed his body against a large pillow and slowly drifted away into sleep. 

He would probably be fine. Byakuya would be back home in the morning, the heater would be on, and he could just relax. He would be fine because he wouldn’t be alone. Sure, he’d still have to go to work but he had people at work and that’s something he can deal with. 

Tomorrow’s just a day away, after all. 

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments are always nice :)


End file.
